


Five times Keith had to carry Lance, and one time he didn’t

by GemmaRose



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (In Spanish!), Awkward Crush, Blood, Blood Loss, Carrying, Crushes, Drinking, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Character Injury, Rescue Missions, Secret Crush, Underage Drinking, but they're only like. buzzed. so it barely counts., i guess?, i mean he's not legal in the US but the drinking age is different in space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8816935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: It seems to Keith that whenever Lance gets hurt or otherwise incapacitated, he’s the one who ends up carrying the idiot to safety. It seems to Lance that Keith really shouldn’t be strong enough to carry him so effortlessly, considering the Red Paladin is shorter and skinnier than him. But he doesn’t really mind being manhandled as much as he maybe probably should...Crossposted from the Voltron kink meme.





	1. Upright

“Lance? Lance!” Keith shook him, and Lance groaned. He hurt all over, especially around his head and, well, everywhere else.

“Ugh.” he managed to pull his aching arms in towards his body, and the world spun dangerously around him. That wasn’t good. His stomach lurched, but he managed not to lose his lunch. “Despierto. Estoy despierto.” he mumbled, pushing himself onto his hands and knees. It was quiet, which meant the battle was over. “We win?”

“We- I find you passed out in a pool of your own blood, and you want to know if we _won_?!” Keith’s hands left his shoulders, and Lance did his best to hide how he swayed when he shifted to kneeling.

“Did we?” he asked, managing a weak grin. He definitely had a few busted ribs, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle until they were back on the castle. It wasn’t something that’d put Keith or Shiro out of commission, so he should be able to walk it off, more or less. His ribs were probably just bruised. He wouldn’t even need a cryo-pod, just some juice and like, a band-aid for wherever the hell he was bleeding.

“Yes, we won.” Keith huffed, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, you look like shit.” he held out a hand, and Lance let the Red Paladin pull him to his feet.

“Excuse you.” he tried to glare, but only just barely stifled a yawn so it probably wasn’t very effective. “I look amazing, always.” he couldn’t stop the yawn that came after that, and when Keith let go of his forearm he staggered back a step. Fuck, his balance was off. Had he hit his head? Probably, it definitely hurt enough for that.

“Okay, I don’t know how much blood you’ve lost but you clearly shouldn’t be walking.” Keith frowned.

“I’m fine.” Lance frowned back, blinking away the spots of bright black that danced across his vision. “Let’s get back to the-” the world spun again, and he leaned forward with a hand pressed to his helmet. It was just in his head, all in his head.

“Come on.” Keith sighed, grabbing Lance’s left arm and pulling it over his shoulders. “The quicker we make it back, the quicker you can lie down.”

Lance nodded weakly. Lying down sounded like a really good idea. He swayed slightly as he shuffled along next to Keith, and without the arm around his waist and the firm grip on his wrist he definitely would’ve fallen over. It was kinda nice, actually. Keith usually avoided physical contact outside of sparring, shying away from even Hunk’s hugs, but now he was holding Lance so close they were actually touching.

Okay, yeah, he really had lost a lot of blood if he was getting happy about being close to _Keith_. In their flight suits and armour it wasn’t like Lance could actually feel the heat radiating from him, or how firm and muscley his body was. Lance groaned and let his head hang forward. It was just the blood loss talking, all he had to do was keep putting one foot in front of the other and ignore the random delirious thoughts. Which was much easier said than done.

Keith was murmuring a low, constant stream of encouragement as they rounded the robeast’s head, bringing the castle into view, and Lance couldn’t even find it in him to complain about Keith’s voice for once. It was nice, soothing, and he couldn’t help but lean towards it a little. Things were fuzzing in and out, and his legs felt like wet sandbags, but being halfway carried like this was kinda nice. Keith was jolting him with every step, which made his ribs hurt, but still, nice.

Keith shook him more deliberately, and Lance grumbled into Keith’s shoulder. He wasn’t dying, just woozy and maybe concussed. He’d be fine. More than fine if Keith stopped half-dragging him and just carried him. But, then again, he wasn’t hurt bad enough to need carrying. He could walk just fine on his own. Probably couldn’t do any piloting until his head cleared up, but now that the battle was won they could leave Blue here until he was cleared to fly.

“‘M fine.” he groaned, and tried to push away from Keith.

“No, you’re not.” Keith snapped, arm tightening around Lance’s waist and hand tightening around his wrist. “Now shut up and let me get you to a pod.”

Lance sighed, and went limp against Keith’s side. Whatever, Keith was strong enough to drag-carry him all the way back to the castle. He could just relax and enjoy it, then enjoy being right when Allura told Keith it hadn’t been necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at the castle, Lance tries to talk his way out of going into cryo. It doesn't work very well, since he's speaking Spanish (which the Lions can't translate yet) and still bleeding. Keith practically throws him into a pod.


	2. Piggyback

Lance worried at the inside of his lip with his teeth, trying to map out his handholds and footholds for the next stretch of climbing. Using his armour’s jet pack would be easiest, of course, but it would also be very loud and they were trying to be stealthy about their search for a hiden galra outpost here. Pressing his lips into a line, Lance reached up and grabbed his first handhold.

“There’s no way you can get to the top from there.”

Lance rolled his eyes. Splitting up to search was fine and dandy, doing it in pairs wasn’t a problem at all, but being partnered up with _Keith_ was less than pleasant. Why couldn’t it have been him and Hunk in one team and Pidge and Keith in another? Hell, he even would’ve swapped partners with Shiro, and Lance was sure Coran was giving the Black Paladin some long-winded story or other right now. But no, he was stuck with the most aggravating member of his team.

“I know what I’m doing, mullet-head.” he said, not looking over his shoulder as he placed his foot on a tiny ledge and tested his weight on it. It held, so he straightened that leg and reached for his next grip.

“You’re going to fall.” Keith said matter-of-factly. Lance rolled his eyes, and kept climbing. He’d scaled a sandstone pillar once on a Garrison gym class field trip. This was nothing in comparison. Hell, he wasn’t even climbing straight up! It was a damn steep slope, but it was still a slope in his favour.

“No, I’m not.” Lance fired back, not taking his eyes off his next handhold as he reached for it. There were plenty of little ledges and crevices at this level, so it was actually pretty easy going. Higher up it looked smoother, but there were a few roughly-parallel cracks that he could use for grips.

“Lance, just get your ass back down here and we’ll find somewhere else to get past this.” Keith said, sounding irritated.

“You just don’t wanna admit I’m better than you at something.” Lance grinned, leaning back just enough to look down at Keith. He was already at least seven feet up, maybe a bit more, and if he was guessing right then he was about a third of the way up the cliff face. There were only a few more feet until he reached the smoother part, and he started considering the deep cracks as he approached them. Centering himself between them would be tricky, but once he did... 

“I don’t want to have to call Shiro and tell him we’re scraping you’re splattered brains off the ground because you’re too stubborn to act like a normal goddamn human being.” Keith snapped.

“Is that _worry_ I hear, Mr. Kogane?” Lance grinned, not daring to lean back as he considered his next move. The ledge for his foot was a bit further than he’d thought, so he’d have to do a little jump shuffle to get up there. “I’m fla-” his foot landed on the grip, which snapped off under the pressure, and his sentence cut off in a yelp. There was a split second where he was hanging from his fingertips, then gravity kicked in and he was falling. Lance scrambled for a handhold, but none of them were deep enough to slow his descent. He hit the ground hard, pain shooting up through his leg, and was pretty sure he screamed.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

Lance bit back a whimper, blinking hard against tears as he pulled his throbbing leg against his chest. God, it _hurt_. He’d gotten used to being thrown around during training, but this was a whole nother level of pain, like someone had taken a hot poker and jabbed it into his leg a few dozen times from different angles.

“Lance, hey, eyes on me.” Keith’s fingers clicked in front of his face, and Lance looked up with a heavy, deliberate inhale. “Where does it hurt?”

“Ankle.” Lance choked out after a few torturously long seconds trying to remember the word.

“Alright. Hold still, I need to get your boot off to check it.”

Lance’s inhale shuddered around an aborted sob, and he gritted his teeth as Keith worked off his boot. He wouldn’t scream, he wouldn’t- “Pinche **puta**! ” he yelled as Keith prodded his ankle.

“Oh, stop being a big baby.” Keith huffed, grabbing Lance firmly just above the ankle and gently applying pressure to the already swelling spot from various angles. “Can’t tell if it’s broken, but you probably shouldn’t walk on it.” he said after a minute of mostly-gentle poking around.

“Great.” Lance sighed. Shiro had ordered radio silence, which meant he’d have to sit here like a lame duck while Keith ran back to the shuttle to get help. He wasn’t sure if the pain or boredom would drive him nuts first.

“Well, we’ve got a few options here.” Keith sighed, sitting down on the ground a few feet to Lance’s side. “Option one, I run back to the rendezvous point and lead the others here when they get back. Option two, one of us breaks radio silence to call for backup.”

Lance grimaced at that. If they broke radio silence, Shiro would be giving him that Disappointed Dad Look for hours. “I’ll take option one.”

Keith threw his boot at him, and Lance caught it easily. “Or, option three. I carry you back.”

“Coulda said that earlier.” Lance huffed, considering his ankle and his boot. Yeah, no, that wasn’t going back on until the swelling went down at the very least. Then Keith’s words fully registered, and he looked up at the Red Paladin. “Wait, _carry_ me?”

“Yes, Lance.” Keith said, as if explaining something to a particularly dim-witted child. “I said carry you.”

“Neither of us is gonna make it down that rockfall with my arm over your shoulder.”

“That’s called being a human crutch.” Keith rolled his eyes. “If I carry you, we won’t have a problem. Assuming you manage to hold on without choking me.”

“Hold o- ACK!” Halfway through his question, Keith crouched in front of him, reached back to grab him by the wrists, and _yanked_. Lance’s knees hit the dirt, the impact sending a jolt of pain down to his injured ankle and startling a whimper out of him.

“Oh, quit being a baby.” Keith huffed, draping Lance’s arms over his shoulders and reaching back against to place his hands behind Lance’s knees. “It’s not like I dislocated anything.”

“I was _startled_.” Lance huffed, curling his fingers under the lower edge of Keith’s breastplate.

“Suuure.” Keith drawled, pulling Lance’s knees even with his before standing. Lance grimaced as his face was nearly pressed into Keith’s mullet, and tucked his chin over the Red Paladin’s shoulder.

“Did you just roll your eyes?” Lance needled, knocking his uninjured heel against Keith’s thigh. “Because I swear-”

“I swear I will drop you.” Keith said flatly. “I will drop you, and you can go with option one.”

Lance affected a gasp, releasing Keith’s armour with one hand so he could lean back and bring it up to cover his mouth. “Keith, how could you!” he exclaimed in his best scandalized tone. “I thought we were friends. We _bonded_ , didn’t we?”

“Will you ever quit holding that over my head?” Keith huffed, adjusting his grip on Lance’s legs as he started down a steep incline.

“Nope.” Lance grinned, settling his chin back over Keith’s shoulder.

Keith sighed, and tightened his grip slightly on Lance’s legs as they hit a patch of scree which had taken them the better part of a tock to scale. Lance curled his fingers tighter under the edge of Keith’s breastplate, and tried not to focus on the flex of Keith’s muscles against him. Sure, he’d always sorta known that Keith was strong, but there was a difference between watching someone swing a sword around and having them bodily lift and carry you without breaking a sweat. The difference being that one was significantly hotter than the other.

Lance shook his head slightly, and fixed his gaze on a scraggly tree sticking up out of the loose rocks. He knew for a fact that Hunk could bench press him as a warm-up, and by all accounts Shiro had carried him to a cryo-pod after that whole Sendak mess, and he hadn’t- okay, no that was a lie. He’d had the biggest crush on Shiro for an embarrassingly long time. And Hunk, come to think of it. Damn, he’d almost forgotten how he wound up introducing his roomie to his siblings. Then there was Allura, who could probably snap him like a twig, and... fuck, Isidora was right about him having a type. Just about everyone he’d ever had a crush on was stronger than him.

That didn’t mean he had to get a crush on Keith, though! Keith was obnoxious, and stubborn, and obsessed with training to the point he spent his _free time_ in the training room. He barely took care of his hair, probably only washed his face to get grime off of it, and seemed to be perpetually scowling, which was really kinda a waste because _damn_. Oh, **fuck**. Lance groaned, and tilted his head down until the top of Keith’s cuirass dug almost painfully into the underside of his chin.

“Hey, don’t go passing out on me.” Keith warned, deliberately jostling Lance’s injured leg and sending a spear of pain up from his ankle. He sucked a breath in through his teeth, and released Keith’s breastplate with one hand to smack at his arm.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Good. Because carting your dead-weight ass all the way back would be a pain.”

“But you could do it?” Lance asked, and mentally smacked himself as soon as the words left his mouth. Fantasy fuel was one thing he definitely did not need _any_ of, especially when Keith was involved.

“I’m carrying you now, aren’t I?” Keith tilted his head slightly to the side, knocking his helmet against Lance’s.

And, there it was. Lance grimaced, and tried to focus on the hidden base they were supposed to be looking for, the vaguely familiar scenery passing by, anything but the mental image of Keith bridal carrying him to a bed and throwing him down and pinning him and- okay, no, he was _not_ going to follow that train of thought. That way lead to bad decisions and embarrassment and given that Keith was currently carrying him one of those things would kick in much sooner than the other. 

Lance inhaled deliberately through his nose, exhaled through his clenched teeth, and thought about his family. Amalia’s broken wrist from their tree climbing competition, the time Vivian had somehow wrecked her bike bad enough to end up with her foot through the spokes of the front wheel, Fernanda’s blood mingling with seawater after she’d come up for air in front of his windsurfer. As long as he didn’t focus on the feel of Keith’s body moving under him, or the dizzying pain radiating up his leg, the only thing Keith would be able to tease him about was failing at rock climbing.


	3. Fireman

Lance gritted his teeth against a scream, ducking his head and hunching his shoulders. There was a thunk and clatter as the galra soldier fell, and Lance opened his eyes to see Keith’s just inches from his own, wide in his pale face. “You okay?” he asked, scrambling to his feet and trying not to obviously favour his uninjured side. It didn’t hurt yet, he could keep fighting until it started to and then hold down a choke point or something.

“Yeah.” Keith said breathlessly, looking from Lance’s extended hand to the bloodied purple blade which would’ve spilled his guts across the metal floor. “You?”

“I can handle it.” Lance said dismissively, taking Keith’s hand and pulling him to his feet as Pidge felled the final robot soldier.

“Holy shit, that’s a lot of blood.”

“I’m fine, Hunk.” Lance huffed, turning around and reactivating his bayard. “We still haven’t found-”

“You’re not fine.” Shiro said firmly, interrupting him.

“I can still fight.” Lance insisted, hands curling around his bayard.

“You can’t even stand up straight.” Shiro frowned. “Keith, make sure he gets back to the shuttle.”

“Me?!” Keith scowled. “Why do I have to haul his useless ass back there? Make Hunk do it!”

“Hunk’s our cover fire, dimwit.” Pidge rolled their eyes. “Me an’ Shiro can make up for you, and Hunk can kinda make up for Lance, but the three of us can’t make up for either of them.”

“Hey, easy answer, don’t make me go back to the shuttle.” Lance interjected. “I can hold down this corridor, and Hunk can throw me over his shoulder on the way out.”

“No.” Shiro said, eyes narrowing slightly. “Lance, you’re hurt. I’m not leaving you alone in an unsecured location. Keith, get him back to the shuttle safely then rejoin us.”

“But-” Lance started, Keith’s voice overlapping with his in matching protest.

“That’s an order.” Shiro glared, and both of them hung their heads.

“Fine.” Keith huffed, grabbing Lance by the elbow. “Lets go.” he started stalking back towards the door they’d entered through, and Lance stumbled after him. His leg hurt like hell, but he gritted his teeth and kept going. He could do this, he could- his foot caught on a severed robot arm and he went down hard, the impact jarring his leg and startling a yelp out of him.

“Great.” Keith huffed, letting go of Lance’s arm to let him try to stand. His leg felt like dead weight, pulsing with pain in time to his heartbeat, and without already being on his feet it was super hard to maneuver. “Combat ready, huh?”

“I never said that.” Lance huffed, pushing himself up onto one foot.

“Just, stop.” Keith grabbed him the the elbows. “You’re not walking any more on that leg.”

“What, you’re gonna leave me here?” Lance frowned.

“No, I’m going to carry you.” Keith rolled his eyes and shuffled around until he had Lance’s wrists in one hand and the other arm under his thighs. Lance tensed, and Keith pulled back. “Sorry, would you rather be _dragged_? I’m sure you remember the shit we had to wade through to get here.”

“No, no, it’s not that.” Lance said quickly. “Just, uh- my leg.” he affected a grimace, which wasn’t hard to do since his leg really did hurt.

“Why do you think I’m not carrying you piggy-back again?” Keith asked rhetorically, adjusting his grip. “This part might hurt, but try not to scream in my ear.”

Lance gritted his teeth, and squeezed his eyes shut as Keith hauled him across his shoulders. The cuirass and stiff fabric pauldron pressed into his stomach, and blinding pain erupted through his leg. More jolts of pain spiked up his leg as Keith began to move quickly, and he sucked breaths through his teeth. It hurt even worse than twisting his ankle, almost worse than what little he could remember of the incident with Sendak and the crystal.

“Don’t you dare pass out on me, Lance.” Keith hissed, not sounding winded in the slightest. “I’m not missing this fight because of your stupid heroics.”

“Heroics?” Lance replied, struggling to keep his mind off of the pain and the effortless speed with which Keith was carrying him. “It’s called saving your damn life, you ungrateful-” a hard jolt as Keith hurdled some fallen robots sent his head spinning, and Lance grunted as Keith’s shoulder drove into his diaphragm. “Mójol ingrato.” he wheezed, struggling to inhale more than a shallow breath. 

“Oh, fuck.” Keith jostled him again as bog stink reached his nostrils. “Stay with me, Lance.”

“I’m with you, asshole.” Lance groaned, knocking his fist against Keith’s breastplate. They’d slowed down, thanks to the knee-deep muck between the shuttle and base, and he tried to focus on the stench instead of the pain. It had reeked when his helmet was shut, and now that his helmet was on half-visor mode he could _taste_ it. It tasted like farts and rot and the type of mud that sucked at your boots. He wondered if this was what Dagobah smelled like. How the hell had Yoda been able to stand it? Well, he _was_ an alien. Lance couldn't even remember if he had a nose. Luke, though. Lance couldn't imagine spending an hour in this stink, let alone training in it for what, days? Weeks? The timeline was kinda fuzzy in his head, but he knew it wasn't a long time.

The ring of metal jarred Lance back to the present, and he tried to keep his injured leg loose as Keith set him down on one of the seats along the wall. “Here.” he said, tossing the onboard first aid kit onto the seat next to him. “Can you patch yourself up?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Lance grimaced, and Keith only stuck around long enough for him to pull the box closer before charging back out into the reeking swamp, plowing through the muck at almost walking speed. Lance pulled his helmet off, and slammed his head back against the wall of the shuttle. He wasn’t doing this. He wasn’t going to have a crush on his teammate. He’d gotten over his crush on Shiro quick enough, why wasn’t this thing for Keith going away? “Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.” he grunted, banging the back of his head against the wall until it ached. He had to get his emotions under control before someone picked up on them in synchronization training.

But he could do that later. Right now, he couldn’t really feel his left leg and his armour was getting redder by the second. There had better be healing gel in this first aid kit, or Allura was going to be mad as hell. Not just at him for getting hit, but also at Keith for running back to the fight without making sure he was bandaged up first. Like hell was he gonna let Keith get in trouble because he did something stupid. His dumb crush was his problem, not anybody else’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! Have some pining, awkwardly turned on Lance.


	4. Princess

“Again?!” Hunk cried, throwing his hands in the air. “This is the fifth time in twelve systems!”

“Pay up.” Pidge said, holding their hand out to Coran.

Keith rolled his eyes and tuned out the advisor and Green Paladin’s bickering about whether or not their bet was over yet. “Do we know where he is?” he asked, looking between Shiro and Allura.

“We’ve got a lock on his armour. He’s likely in the same area.” Allura said with a sigh.

“So, what, we go land a Lion on their doorstep and demand they give him back?”

“It won’t be as simple as that.” Shiro said, gesturing to bring up a holographic map. “This is the compound his signal is coming from.” he pointed at a, well, a goddamn mountain.

“Well, this is gonna be fun.” Hunk said drily. “Lemme guess, most of us stage an assault on the main entrance and someone else sneaks in the back to drag Lance’s ass outta there?”

“More or less.” Shiro shrugged.

“More or less?” Keith frowned.

“As I’m sure you all remember, this planet’s low atmosphere rotates much faster than the planet itself.” Allura said. Keith nodded, and could see Hunk and Pidge nod as well in his peripheral vision.

“I’m not forgetting that windstorm any time soon.” Pidge muttered, rubbing at a dark scuff on their cuirass.

“Even the Lions will have difficulty navigating in winds of that speed, so you’ll have to come down and put up your particle barriers to protect them. The best places to land would be here, here, and here.”

“There’s four of us.” Pidge frowned, crossing their arms.

“Yes, but the fourth one of you will be landing here.” she pointed to a small plateau on the other side of the mountain from the first three spots, much too small for a Lion. “Keith, you will pilot a shuttle down to this service entrance and locate Lance.”

“What? No!” Keith protested. “Make Hunk do it this time.”

“No way, man.” Hunk shook his head quickly. “There’s no way I can land a shuttle on a pad that small in a crazy alien windstorm.”

“Shiro?” Keith turned to their leader, and Shiro just shook his head. “Fine.” he huffed, crossing his arms. He was gonna smack Lance stupid when he found him. What kind of idiot got freaking kidnapped after not even fifteen minutes planetside?

\---

Keith staggered through the curtained doorway, breathing deeply through his mouth and clutching a hand over his shoulder. There were shards of his cuirass digging into his skin, and he distantly noted that his flight suit wouldn’t be space-worthy until it was repaired. The bag with Lance’s armour and flight suit hung from its single strap over the less-damaged side of his armour, bouncing awkwardly against his back with every step, and Keith internally cursed every single factor which had lead to him being the one on this solo mission.

“Eeth?”

Keith looked up, and his eyes widened. He’d expected to find Lance in a prisoner jumpsuit or something, not a glorified bathrobe. He lifted a hand, and turned on his comms. “I’ve got eyes on Lance.” he said, crossing to the table his teammate was strapped down on. Lance grinned up at him, clearly out of it, and Keith resisted the urge to sigh. “I think he’s drugged.”

“Oh, for fuck’s-” Pidge was drowned out by the sound of combat, and Keith cut open the leather cuffs holding Lance in place. The Blue Paladin didn’t even try to get up, just smiled wider and groped at Keith’s forearm, slurring out something in Spanish.

“How bad is it?” Shiro asked.

“He’s not walking out of here.” Keith frowned, pulling Lance up into a sitting position. He got the distinct impression that his hands were the only things keeping Lance from falling back down onto the tabletop.

“If he can’t walk, you’ll have to carry him.” Shiro said firmly. “Call again when you’re back to the shuttle, and we’ll all pull out at once.”

“Will do.” Keith said, and turned off his comms. Lance couldn’t go over his shoulders this time, or on his back, which left Keith with precious few options for how to carry his teammate. He groaned, and met Lance’s eyes. “I am never letting you live this down.” he growled, and slid his left arm under Lance’s knees. Lance made an unmistakably appreciative sound, and leaned his head against the strap of the bag holding his clothes.

“Eres tan fuerte” he slurred, still grinning at Keith with those wide, dopey eyes.

“What the hell did these bastards give you?” Keith huffed, shouldering through the curtain in the doorway and stepping over the incapacitated aliens who’d been guarding the room.

“No lo sé.” Lance beamed as Keith hurried through the curtain separating the antechamber from the hallway. The way back to the shuttle _should_ still be clear, but there were a shit load of stairs to climb.

“Me gusta esto.” Lance mumbled, eyelids drooping. Keith cursed under his breath, and deliberately jolted Lance on his next step.

“No falling asleep.” he snapped, hefting Lance up closer to his chest.

“No iba a hacerlo.” Lance mumbled, less slurred than before, his eyes narrowing and pupils contracting slightly. Was the drug wearing off? “Eres demasiado fuerte para que me sea posible dormir.”

Keith rolled his eyes. He may not be able to tell what Lance was saying, but he knew that tone by heart. “There’s no possible way this is my fault.” he said sharply, starting up the stairs.

“Es _todo_ tu culpa. ” Lance whined, pouting at him. Honestly, if the situation was less dire Keith probably would’ve laughed. “Eres tan estúpidamente _fuerte_ , presumiendo así.” he managed to lift an arm enough to slap at Keith’s chest. “Y ni siquiera me hagas hablar de tu corte de cabello.” he huffed.

Keith didn’t know much Spanish, but Lance had cussed him out a few times and he knew what that last word meant. “Are you _seriously_ going to bitch about my hair while I’m saving your ass?” he spat, skidding on the top landing and pivoting on his heel to face the curtained doorway. He shifted his grip until he could support Lance with one arm, and pulled the first heavy fabric drape back. The weights sewn into the bottom clacked against his greaves as he stepped past, and he let it drop shut behind him.

“Santa mierda, eres fuerte.” Lance breathed as Keith hauled aside the second curtain. Getting back into the shuttle wasn’t particularly hard, since he’d left the rear hatch open, and as soon as he’d dumped Lance in the copilot seat Keith turned his comms back on.

“In the shuttle.” he said without preamble, tossing the bag of Lance’s armour into his lap. “Ready for takeoff in three.”

“Wait for my signal.” Shiro replied quickly, and Keith nodded. He could hardly wait to put this crazy planet in their rearview mirror.


	5. Sloth Grip

“Have either of you seen Lance?”

Keith stepped back from Coran, lowering the training sword as he turned to face Shiro. “Not since we split up.”

“Is he not back yet?” Coran frowned, wiping some sweat off of his forehead.

“No.” Shiro shook his head. “I thought he might’ve come to check in with you.”

Keith groaned, and hung the training sword from his belt. “We’re gonna have to go hunt him down, aren’t we?”

“Looks like it.” Shiro sighed. “I’ll go get Allura, and the four of us can head down to look for him.”

“Actually.” Coran interjected, fiddling with one end of his moustache. “I’d suggest just the three of you head down. I’ll stay here, in case he comes back while you’re out.”

“Good plan.” Shiro nodded once. “Keith, get your jacket on. It’s chilly planetside.”

“Will do.” Keith gave a lazy salute, and started towards the rack of training weapons. Not how he’d hoped to end today, but staying up late hunting down his accident-prone friend was better than having to get up at stupid o’clock in the morning because he’d managed to get kidnapped again. And knowing Lance, if they left him alone on a planet overnight, that’s exactly what would happen.

\---

Keith groaned, and facepalmed. Sure, most of them _technically_ of legal drinking age by the imperial standard, but they’d all agreed not to until they were legal back on Earth. Lance was a man of his word, though, so Keith would bet there had been a pretty girl involved. And possibly drinks that didn’t taste anywhere near as alcoholic as they really were.

He sighed, and opened his comms unit to the group call. “I found him.” he sighed into the mic.

“Let me guess. Unconscious?” Allura said drily after a second.

“Hitting on a cute alien?” Shiro guessed, his tone nearly identical.

“Drunk.” Keith answered flatly.

“Well, he is legal.” Shiro said after a moment.

“What?” Keith frowned. “No he’s not. He’s eighteen, same as me and Hunk.”

“And he’s not American.” Shiro pointed out. “Drinking age in Cuba is eighteen.”

“It’s not the same in every country?” Allura asked. Keith rolled his eyes.

“I’ll get his drunk ass back to the shuttle. Meet you two there?”

“Sounds good.” Shiro said. “Feel free to call in if you need help.”

“Will do.” Keith closed the call, and headed across the bar towards Lance. The Blue Paladin was trying to flirt with some local aliens, but kept pausing between words like he’d forgotten the rest of the line. The aliens seemed to find him more amusing than anything else, given the way they were giggling, but Keith couldn’t really fault him for acting like an idiot. He was drunk, alcohol made just about everyone act like an idiot. Even Allura.

Lance caught sight of him, and his alcohol-flushed face immediately darkened even further. He blurted something in Spanish, surprisingly fluid Spanish given how stilted his earlier conversation had seemed, and Keith gave the aliens a tight, barely-apologetic smile before grabbing his friend by the arm and dragging him out the front door. Once outside, where it was marginally cooler and a whole lot quieter, Keith released Lance’s wrist.

“You could’ve called Coran or something, if you were staying out late.” he huffed, crossing his arms. “Would’ve saved us all a lot of worrying.”

Lance squinted at him in what was probably supposed to be a glare. “Yo-” he pointed at Keith, finger wavering in the air. “Soy un adulto. Puedo cuidarme por mi cuenta.”

“I’m not arguing with you when I can’t understand what you’re saying.” Keith shook his head.

“Suerte que eres lindo.” Lance huffed, swaying slightly on his feet.

“C’mon.” Keith sighed, taking Lance by the elbow and tugging him down the street. “Let’s get you back to the castle.”

“Aww, pero estaba llegando a alguna parte con esas chicas!” Lance whined, dragging his feet as Keith pulled him away from the bar.

“Castle.” Keith repeated, yanking on Lance’s elbow when he tried to turn back towards the bar. Had they been on Earth, he might’ve considered letting Lance go and spend the rest of his free night getting rejected by various girls. What he did on his own time was none of Keith’s business, and it wasn’t like they had a chance to relax very often. But they weren’t on Earth, they were on a planet with a name with too many consonants for Keith to pronounce, and anyways those aliens hadn’t been taking Lance seriously. Lance, hopeless romantic that he was under all the terrible flirting, deserved better than them.

“Crees que les gusté?” Lance asked as they turned a corner. The streets here were laid out in hexagons, which made navigation fun to say the least. “Quiero decir, se estaban riendo de mis bromas, pero eran tan lindas. Tan fuera de mi liga como Allura.”

“What about Allura?” Keith asked, trying to recall the fastest way back to the shuttle from their current location.

“Es tan lindaaa.” Lance whined, slumping on Keith’s shoulder and forcing him to stop or dump his friend on the ground. “Osea, has visto su cabello? Es como la luz de la luna.” he gestured up at the sky, where a big lumpy orange rock orbited the planet at a moon and a few stars pricked through the light pollution. “Apuesto a que es super suave, también.” he sighed, and Keith rolled his eyes. “Crees que me dejaría jugar con el, si preguntara amablemente?” he looked up at Keith, and Keith pushed him off his shoulder.

“I think we should get you back to the castle before you start composing shitty love poems in Spanish.” he said drily, taking Lance by the elbow again and dragging him on towards the shuttle.

“Aunque sabes qué es mejor que su cabello?” Lance asked after a moment, big dumb grin still firmly on his face. “Su _fuerza_. ” he said the last word almost reverently, and one of Keith’s eyebrows lifted. Lance had slurred that word at him a few times during that one rescue mission when he was so heavily drugged he could barely sit up on the way back to the castle. He’d kinda thought it was an insult, but if Lance was using to to describe Allura then it definitely wasn’t.

“Quiero decir, la has _visto_ entrenar? ” Lance continued, gesturing vaguely with his free hand. “Puede sacudir a Hunk por todos lados como si no pesara _nada_! Y también a Shiro! Apuesto a que nos podría poner en órbita a cualquiera de nosotros si estuviéramos en la luna. ”

“You’re a hopeless sap.” Keith said flatly, but he could feel a smile tugging at his mouth.

“Tu cabello no tiene remedio.” Lance retorted, tugging on Keith’s hair. Keith rolled his eyes and gave Lance a shove on the shoulder. Lance staggered sideways, pinwheeled his arms for balance, then fell on his ass in the low blue-leafed shrubs which lined the building’s side of the sidewalk in this city.

Keith couldn’t help it, he snorted. “I take it back.” he chuckled. “You’re not a hopeless sap, you’re just hopeless.” he offered Lance a hand, but the Blue Paladin just turned on his side and hurled. Keith rolled his eyes, and grabbed Lance by the back of his shirt. “Hopeless.” he muttered, trying to pull his friend to his feet. Lance refused to stand, though, and after a minute Keith paused and crossed his arms.

“Are you really going to make me drag you?” he asked.

“No.” Lance shook his head, and made to stand. He got about halfway up, then wobbled, pitched forward, and barely turned to the bushes before hurling again. He collapsed on the edge of the sidewalk with a groan, and Keith sighed.

“Fine, I’ll carry you.” he huffed. Lance sat up, arms raised like a kid asking to be picked up, and Keith knelt to pull him over his shoulders. That way, if Lance had to hurl he could just kneel and avoid getting it on either of their clothes.

Lance, however, seemed to have other ideas. His arms fastened around Keith’s neck, and he tucked his chin over Keith’s shoulder. “Así.” he said firmly, and Keith groaned. He did _not_ want to spend half an hour crouching next to a puddle of vomit trying to argue his teammate into being carried like a normal goddamn human being. He didn’t want to carry Lance like a freaking sloth on a stick, either, but the faster they got back to the shuttle the faster he could make someone else haul Lance’s drunk ass to bed.

“Fine.” he huffed, pulling Lance’s legs around his waist and trying to find a hold that wasn’t awkward or unduly difficult. He wound up with his hands on Lance’s ass, and exhaled as he stood. If anyone tried to use this as blackmail against him, he was turning it around on Lance. Fucking idiot, going and getting drunk without telling anyone. This whole situation could’ve been avoided if he’d asked someone to come with when he went out.

“Eres tan fuerte.” Lance mumbled in his ear after a few blocks.

“Thanks, I think.” Keith huffed, readjusting his grip. Lance was mostly dead weight, which was annoying as hell, but it was still a damn sight easier than hauling Shiro out to his bike after that fateful crash.

“Apuesto a que eres todo músculo debajo de esto.” Lance clumsily patted his back. “Todo firme músculo.” his voice dipped into a satisfied hum, and Keith rolled his eyes. At least Lance wasn’t complaining.

“Desería que me follaras.” he mumbled after another stretch of silence, shifting so his face was tucked against the crook of Keith’s neck. It shifted his center of gravity further away from Keith, making him harder to hold onto, but Keith adjusted his hands with only a quiet grunt.

“Acorrálame contra la pared y fóllame hasta que grite.” he moaned, and Keith faltered in his step. That, wasn’t a moan of pain. He’d heard Lance in pain, both genuine and dramatized, more times than he could count. He knew what his friend sounded like when he was hurt, or exaggerating hurt. He didn’t sound like that.

“Dios, Keith, quiero que me folles como no tienes idea.” he whimpered, hips rolling against Keith’s stomach.

Keith almost dropped him. “What the _fuck_ , Lance?” he squeaked, face heating as Lance ground against him.

“Quiero ver tu estúpida cara.” he gasped against Keith’s neck, and Keith picked up the pace. The shuttle was close, he could dump Lance in one of the seats and make Shiro or Allura deal with him. Get some air, cool his burning face, and confront Lance about this in the morning.

“Shiro!” Keith called as soon as the park they’d landed in came into view. “Shiro, Allura!”

“What is it?” Allura yelled, dashing over from behind the copse of thick, piney-shrubby trees blocking the shuttle from view. Her hair had come loose from its bun, and billowed around her as she skidded to a stop.

“Can you take Lance?” Keith asked, shifting his grip to hold Lance out a bit further from his body. Lance whined, and pouted at him.

“Keeeeith.” he slurred, grabbing at Keith’s hair “Quiero besar tu estúpida cara, tan linda y sonrojada.” he leaned in, and Allura lifted him from Keith’s arms easily.

“I’ve got him.” she said, tucking Lance under one arm. “Are you alright?”

Keith nodded stiffly, pressing his palms firmly to his burning cheeks. Lance twisted in Allura’s grip, and grinned up at her.

“Hey, Princesa.” he beamed. “No me importaría ser follado por ti hasta que pierda mis sentidos, tampoco.” he did something which might’ve been an attempt at a wink, and Keith hung his head in his hands as his cheeks flamed.

“I’m just, gonna go back to the shuttle.” he said his voice coming out small. He took off before Allura could reply, and didn’t slow down until he was skidding to a halt in the shuttle. Shiro was picking plant bits out of his hair in the pilot’s seat, and gave him a sidelong look.

“Where’s Lance?” he asked, setting a blue needle-leaf thing on his thigh next to a small pile of similar debris.

“Allura’s got him.” Keith muttered, curling up on the co-pilot seat. His heart was still racing in his chest, face burning at the memory of Lance pressing against him. His stomach turned at the idea of Lance doing the same to Allura, and he pressed his face into his knees. Lance could hit on whoever he wanted, it was none of his business. It was none of his business. He only cared because Lance was his teammate, his friend, and if he woke up with a bruise from getting bitch-slapped he would be insufferable about it.

That was it. That was the logical extent of his emotional investment in Lance’s love life.

So why didn’t it feel like it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay on this chapter! I discovered literally two days ago that Galra Keith Week starts today, and since I'm weak af I decided to participate, despite having many, _many_ other things to write. Also, holy shit Lance did _not_ want to cooperate in the latter half of this chapter. Many thanks to [my lovely beta](http://cas-assbutt-of-thursdays.tumblr.com/) for helping with Lance's Spanish dialogue.


	6. Flour Sack

Keith leaned against the organic plaster-like material which made up the houses on this planet, and took a sip of his drink as he scanned the party. Hunk was letting some of the native kids climb on him, laughing and holding something over his head. Pidge was teaching one of the soldiers who’d fought with them against the galra how to do cartwheels, which was entertaining to watch since these aliens had four legs and two arms. Shiro was, as he ever was during celebrations like these, practically glued to Allura’s side and doing a terrible job of not looking like a lovestruck idiot. Really, why they thought they had to keep their relationship secret was beyond him. It wasn’t like either of them was even good at hiding it.

Shaking his head, Keith looked around for the last two people on his checklist. Coran was sitting up on a balcony with an elder alien that was missing one of its legs, probably swapping stories judging by the way they were gesturing. Lance, meanwhile, was... Keith sighed, and took another swig of his drink. Lance was, predictably, chatting up a cute alien. From the way the bound-up tentacles on her head were shifting between pink and shades of blue, it even looked like she was receptive to his advances.

Something in Keith’s gut twisted at the thought, the knowledge that Lance would get a kiss, maybe more, from this random alien and spend a whole skip grinning about it. Lance held up an arm and flexed, and the alien girl’s head tentacles pulsed a vibrant pink. He laughed, and Keith downed the rest of his drink. He’d been doing his best to ignore the Blue Paladin’s obnoxious flirting, but it was getting on his nerves more and more. Even now, when Lance was too far off for Keith to hear him, the mere sight of it made his insides twist uncomfortably.

Keith groaned, and slammed the back of his head into the wall he was leaning against. It didn’t make any _sense_. It used to be that he just got exasperated listening to Lance’s shitty pick-up lines because they were shitty, or frustrated watching his friend waltz right into a trap because he’d been distracted by a pretty face. But lately, since dragging Lance home from that nunvillery, it had been every time. In fact, when Lance’s flirting was going well it actually irritated Keith more than when it went poorly.

It just didn’t sit right with him, for some reason. The thought of Lance settling for a string of casual flings with random aliens. And the Blue Paladin was most certainly _settling_ for that. Lance had admitted to him, one night when they were waiting for Pidge and Coran to come out of cryo-pods, that he’d always wanted to fall in love and get married and have a family. Keith had teased him for it of course, given him a noogie that sparked a scuffle which left them both breathless and smiling, but that was the moment which came to mind every time he saw Lance start flirting with some random alien they would never see again.

Keith sighed and let his head hang back against the wall, eyes sliding shut. So much of what had happened since they left Earth was a blur, battles and training and endless routine making the days blend into one another in an endless smear of stars. A few memories, of course, stood out sharply from the rest. Lance’s ashen face as he laid in the cryo-pod after Sendak’s defeat, the first time they’d nearly lost one of their own. Lance laughing at some stupid science joke, doubled over and clutching his stomach. Lance’s eyes illuminated by the soft cyan lights of the castle’s night-cycle mode as they waited up for Allura to return from a reconnaissance mission. The way his hair had looked when it first started to get shaggy, all soft and shiny with just the cutest little curl at the ends. The curve of his lips when he smiled, soft and sweet and-

Keith’s eyes flew open, and he slammed the back of his head against the wall again. No, no, _no_. Lance was his friend, nothing more. Just because his friend had a smile like sunshine, and perfect skin, and hair that looked as soft as clouds... oh **fuck**. Keith groaned and pressed his head back against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut. Fuck, he wanted to kiss Lance. Wanted it really bad. Wanted to kiss him, hold him, curl into him like they were just dumb barely-adults on Earth with nothing to worry about other than taxes and getting through college. The thought of waking up next to Lance, face buried in the crook of his neck and arm thrown over his waist, made Keith’s heart beat faster and his face warm with a blush.

Oh god he was really, _really_ fucked wasn’t he. But, wait. He was only fucked if he let this get in the way of their teamwork. If he got past it now, let Lance know before a mental bonding exercise forcibly revealed it to the whole team, then he could just wait for the attraction to fade without it affecting their ability to form Voltron. That was a good plan. He’d do that.

He set his cup down on the ground, and started towards Lance. The alien his friend was flirting with noticed his approach first, and when Lance turned towards him it was with an easy smile. “Keith, just the man I wanted to see!” he grinned. “Zofi here was just saying-”

“Don’t care.” Keith cut him off. The alien’s head tentacles flared dark red for a moment, then settled back into a pale blue that complemented her dull grey-brown skin. He nodded once at her, then grabbed Lance by the waist and lifted him. Lance settled over his shoulder easily, laughed, and Keith was about eighty percent sure he made finger guns at the alien girl.

“Later, babe.” he laughed, and Keith started walking away. The sooner he found an isolated place to talk to Lance, the better. After a few quick steps, Lance’s hands landed on his back, one pressing against his shoulder blade and the other digging into his spine. The Blue Paladin inhaled quickly, almost a gasp, and Keith’s step faltered slightly as he felt something hard press against him which wasn't armour. It didn’t mean anything, he reminded himself firmly as he sped up a bit, eyes casting around for a spot where nobody would come looking for them. Lance went doe-eyed over anyone with a pretty face who had enough muscle mass to so much as bench press his body weight.

When Keith came to a stop in the rear courtyard of a deep, narrow U-shaped building, he set Lance down at arm’s length, near one of the walls. The Blue Paladin’s pupils were wide in the low light, his cheeks flushed dark, lips parted slightly. He’d been meaning to talk about it, to get his feelings out in the open and dismissed so they didn’t mess with their teamwork, but with the soft gold moonlight reflecting in Lance’s eyes and shining on his wet lips... he was irresistible. Keith stepped firmly into Lance’s personal space, and lifted a hand from Lance’s hips to thread into his hair. It was getting long enough to curl at the ends again, and it was just as soft as it looked.

Keith leaned in, and one of Lance’s arms slid around the small of his back. The other had flattened between his shoulder blades, and Lance pulled Keith the last half an inch. Lance kissed with a foreign ferocity, lips smashing against Keith’s wetly, and when his tongue slid over Keith’s lower lip Keith opened his mouth slightly. Lance’s mouth tasted strongly of the same juice Keith had been drinking, along with other alien flavours, and when they pulled apart to breathe they didn’t fall back together immediately.

“What happened to no drinking until we’re legal back home?” Lance teased breathlessly, eyes dark and hypnotising and locked on Keith.

His drink had been alcoholic? Well, that explained why he hadn’t hesitated to go scoop Lance up and carry him off caveman style, but hell if he was admitting ignorance. Lance would tease him for skips if he knew. “Castle’s the first real home I’ve had.” he shrugged, feeling slightly proud of himself for coming up with a feasible cover-up on the spot.

Lance made a pained sound, and pulled Keith in for another wet, forceful kiss. Keith definitely wasn’t complaining, and when Lance’s arm behind his back pulled him in closer he moaned into Lance’s mouth. He’d been so lost in their kiss, he hadn’t even realized he was hard until Lance’s hips rolled against his. But now he couldn’t ignore it, especially since Lance had pulled their hips flush and was grinding on him insistently.

“Lance.” he gasped when they parted briefly, hips jerking forward hard. “Lance, fuck, I-” he moaned, and Lance ducked his head to mouth at his neck through his flight suit. Lance’s hands moved down to cup his ass, pulling him in harder, faster. Keith planted his hands on the wall on either side of Lance, dug his heels into the firm ground, and thrusted. Lance moaned into his mouth, meeting the thrust eagerly, and Keith removed a hand from the wall to reach down between them. Lance’s dick was hard in his hand, and Lance moaned deeply into Keith’s mouth as he started rubbing.

Neither of them lasted long after that, and when Lance slid to the ground in a boneless pile of happy Keith fell mostly next to him. Lance hummed happily, and turned his head to nuzzle Keith’s hair. “So, like, are we dating now?” he mumbled.

Were they dating? Keith frowned, thinking for a moment. They’d made out, and almost had sex against a wall, and honestly Keith didn’t think he’d mind actually having sex somewhere else in a bit. Plus, if they were dating, Lance would stop flirting with every new pretty face they met. He’d have someone he could be properly romantic with, not that Keith knew shit about being romantic but hey he could learn. “Yes.” he said firmly, nodding his head once before turning it to press a kiss to Lance’s forehead. “So no more flirting with aliens, boyfriend.”

Lance grinned against his shoulder, then lifted his head and pressed a sloppy kiss to Keith’s cheek. “Even if you’re invited?” he grinned, draping an arm across Keith’s chest. “These aliens fuck in threes, and Zofi’s-”

“No.” Keith cut him off, kissing him again. Less sloppily this time, but none the less fiercely. When they parted, Lance was straddling Keith’s lap, making him hyper-aware of his heartbeat everywhere their flight suits pressed together. “I’m not sharing.” he huffed, and Lance grinned.

“Clingy much?” he teased, smiling like Keith had never seen before.

“Mine.” Keith replied, and pulled Lance, laughing, into another kiss.

“Alright.” Lance giggled when they parted a few seconds later, rolling to his feet with only a slight wobble. “We'll talk about that later. How about we get back to the castle?” he held out a hand, and Keith let himself be pulled to his feet. “We can get out of these dirty flight suits and have some _real_ fun.” Lance grinned, and Keith grinned back as he laced their fingers together.

“What are we waiting for?”


End file.
